A Photo, Reunion and Reflection
by ncc2011
Summary: What if I befriended Andy during his freshman year and we got into the discussion of toys?  Will it lead to anything?  Told from my POV.
1. The Photo

When I started at my college's radio station as a freshman three years ago, I turned to the most senior members of the station for advice on how to do things properly. By the time I came into my senior year just a couple of months ago, I was one of the more experienced members of the station who had a lot of responsibilities there. I wondered if some freshman would look to me to show him/her the workings of it just as I had done.

That's how I met Andy Davis.

From day one, this kid was eager to learn just about everything about the station and out of all the seniors he could have picked to receive advice from, he chose me most often. In addition to being heavily involved in the radio station, I am also co-sports editor for the school paper and when I went about recruiting members for our understaffed section, he stepped in despite having no previous journalism experience. Even so, his work began to appear almost every week. Already, I could see he had a lot of potential and was off to a quicker start with what he wanted to do in college than I was when I first arrived.

What I never expected was to talk with him about toys, but things happen.

Just a few days ago, I was announcing our school's football game when I got a text from my aunt, who was offering me two tickets to a basketball game that night. Seeing as I had nothing planned for later other than maybe watching TV, I was willing to take up the offer provided I could find somebody to go with. My partner in the broadcast booth had a work matter to attend to and couldn't go. I called up the few other good friends I had, but they all declined for their own reasons.

After giving it some thought, I decided to try Andy, who had been our board operator during the football game. Though it took him a few minutes, he decided to accept my offer, reasoning that he could put off his homework for the next day.

As I drove back to the station to pick him up, I thought about how good a thing it would be for a senior to bond with a freshman. After all, I don't think enough of that happens, but maybe it's just me.

After arriving at the station to print out the tickets my aunt had sent by e-mail, Andy and I got into my car and off we were to the game. At first, we made small talk with each other: why are we here, where do we live, what's our family life like, etc. He seemed very excited that he got to go to this game. No matter we had only known each other for a short time; we were developing a bond quickly.

On the way to the game, we got into a traffic jam on the expressway. I shouldn't have been surprised at the situation though. I had gone the same way for a hockey game last weekend and ran into the same problem.

By then, the small talk between us had subsided and any conversation we still had going dealt with the delay we were experiencing. That is until I saw Andy pull out a photo from his jacket pocket. I guess he was bored by the fact that we were going nowhere fast at the moment and he needed to keep himself occupied. Still, I thought it was a little unusual that someone would take out a photo to look at when someone they had known for less than two months was driving right next to them.

At first, I said nothing. When we came to another of many complete standstills however, my curiosity overtook me and I felt the need to find out what Andy was looking at.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Oh nothing," replied Andy a bit defensively.

"No really, what is it?"

"Just a picture."

"Of what? A girlfriend? A family member? A pet?"

"Never mind."

I wasn't about to drop it though.

"Andy, I really don't care what it's of," I said. "I'm not one to judge what people carry around with them."

Reluctantly, Andy turned the photo toward me. What I saw was none of the guesses I had made.

"Is that you?" I asked.

Andy nodded slowly.

The photo was of him as a child wearing a cowboy hat and playing with various toys in what looked like his room. Most of the toys were scattered in front of him. Among the playthings in the photo was a Mr. Potato Head, which I also had when I was younger. Andy was also holding a cowboy doll in one hand and a Buzz Lightyear, another toy that I remembered used to be popular though I didn't get one myself until after it stopped being all the rage, in the other.

"Interesting," I said. "I had a couple of these toys myself as a kid. Why do you carry this around though? Don't you worry that it might get lost?"

"Not really," said Andy. "I've got other copies of it at home, but I carry this one around as a reminder of my childhood."

I didn't quite understand. Most everyone has mementos of their childhood somewhere, but why did Andy always have to have his on him?

"Have you always done this?" I asked, to which Andy told me a little story.

"Well, when I made the decision to bring it to college, and that was only because it was in my room at home to begin with, I was just going to keep it in my dorm room. A couple days before I left, I cleared the toys I still had out of my toy chest with the intention of putting them away in our attic except for the cowboy I'm holding in this picture, which I decided to take to college with me. Then somehow, the other toys got lost and I thought my mom had thrown them all away. I got all upset at her and was reluctantly ready to move on to college accepting that they were gone when they suddenly turned up again right before I left. Shortly after I rediscovered them, I saw a note posted on the box they were in suggesting I donate them to a little girl who lived just a few blocks away. I assume my mom wrote it, but it didn't look like her handwriting. Anyway, I did what the note suggested and even though I thought I put my cowboy in my college box, I found him with the rest of the toys and ended up giving him to the little girl too. I played with my toys one last time before I left her house. That day truly meant I had grown up and it was time to move on, so I felt a bit emotional. It was then when I decided that it might be a weird thing for a college kid to do, but if I carry this photo around, I'll have the memories of a time that was much simpler physically as well as in my head."

I thought Andy gave a very deep insight and I also found more common ground with him. I was also nostalgic about my childhood and often found myself wanting to go back there. I was put in a similar spot last summer when my mom had my sister and I separate the old stuffed animals we wanted to keep from those we wanted to donate. During this past summer, I found a few of the old toys I still had, including my Buzz Lightyear, and decided to put them on a shelf in my closet as a reminder of days gone by.

As I told all this to Andy, he appeared to have some sort of a guilty look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Did I make you feel bad about giving your toys away?"

"I wouldn't say that," said Andy. "Everyone has their own way of reminding themselves of their childhood. You said you've held on to some of your toys and that's fine. I simply made a choice to give up mine, but I still have this photo of them. The way I see it, as long as you have something to remind you that life was much easier before you really had to start dealing with the pressures of life, you don't necessarily have to keep what was actually there. Anything you've had in life will always be part of you and that's what really counts."

That was about as good a reflection of looking back at childhood as any I had ever heard. Eventually, the traffic started to move and we got to the arena for the basketball game. The hometown team trailed big for most of the contest, but they came back to win big.

All the while, I got to enjoy it with a kid I still barely knew, but grew a little closer to on the way there. I can see big things for him here after I graduate in June or maybe even this year. Whatever I do with him in the near future, I know that deep down, he's still a kid wanting to play with cowboys and space rangers. Maybe he'll see those toys in the photo again someday, but for now, he has that photo that allows him to respect his past while also looking toward what's ahead.


	2. The Reunion

It's been about a week since Andy and I had that insightful conversation on our way to the basketball game. After we went our separate ways that night, I became a little curious about the identity of that cowboy he was holding. I hopped onto my computer and did a Google Images search for "cowboy doll". It took me awhile to find a match for the cowboy in Andy's photo, but I did.

Upon researching further, I learned that the doll was the title character of a 1950s children's TV show called "Woody's Roundup." Apparently, the show had been a huge hit in its day until the launch of the _Sputnik_ caused children to lose interest in everything that wasn't space-related. As a result, the plug was pulled on the program shortly thereafter. Tough that it went from the top to the bottom so quickly and that it had a cliffhanger that was never resolved, but that's how TV works I guess.

Thinking back on the photo, I seemed to remember seeing two other characters from the show, Jessie the Yodeling Cowgirl and Woody's horse Bullseye, in there as well. Since "Woody's Roundup" hasn't been seen on television in over 50 years, those toys have to be hard to come by nowadays. Those particular ones in Andy's photo must have been hand-me-downs and I kind of wish that when he gave his toys away, he would have at least held on to the "Woody's Roundup" gang, especially since he appeared to love that Woody doll so much. Even if he wasn't planning on playing with them anymore, they could have at least built even more value over time if he simply kept them, but at least they're making that little girl happy, which I now know for a fact thanks to a little experience I just had.

Last night, I went to one of the local high schools to announce a football playoff game for the radio station. Andy came along with me. They had decided during the staff meeting earlier in the week that he had paid enough of his dues that he could finally announce a game.

Normally, I would have expected first-game jitters out of a freshman over the air. Andy seemed to be anything but tense however as he gave the color commentary alongside my play-by-play. Except for a few minor mistakes, the first half went smoothly for us both.

I felt nature calling as halftime came, so after sending it back to our studio for the extended break in the action, I made a dash for the restroom. As one might expect, the line was long, but I made good time and still had some minutes to spare when I came out. I was glad I didn't have to worry about cutting it close.

As I made my way back up toward the press box, I was about to start climbing up the stairs in the bleachers when I saw a little girl, who couldn't have been more than three or four years old, absentmindedly drop something a couple of steps in front of me as she went by. She clearly didn't know what had just happened, so my instinct was to pick up whatever it was and give it back to her. When I picked it up, I thought it was the darndest thing considering what Andy and I had talked about just last weekend.

What I had picked up was a Sheriff Woody doll. After looking at it for a few seconds, I saw the girl sitting next to her mother and walked up to her.

"Excuse me," I told her mother. "I believe your daughter dropped this."

"Woody!" exclaimed the girl.

"Oh my goodness," said her mother. "Thank you very much. Bonnie would have been devastated if she'd lost him."

As I gave the doll back to the girl whose name was Bonnie, I noticed something even more unusual than my initial discovery. I saw the bottoms of the doll's boots and one of them had the name "ANDY" inscribed on it with the "N" written backwards.

_It couldn't be_, I thought. _What's stranger is that this girl looks about the right age for Andy to donate toys to. Maybe it is?_

"Uh, you're welcome," I said in reply to Bonnie's mother.

I left the two of them where they were and finally got back to my post in the press box. I still couldn't get the image of the Woody doll out of my mind though. Andy, who had stayed behind at halftime to take advantage of the food being served, could tell that I was thinking of something.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Oh, uh, nothing," I replied.

"Did something happen while you were gone?" he asked.

I decided to play the odds and assume that what I just saw wasn't Andy's old Woody. After all, if I had told Andy and he ended up asking a strange woman about her daughter's toy, he'd have looked foolish. I would wait until after the game to say something.

"Forget it," I said. "I'll tell you when we're finished. The second half's about to start anyway."

It was a competitive second half with neither team willing to give in. Eventually, it was the visiting team that pulled off the victory to advance to the next round in the playoffs. The large number of hometown fans gathered to see their team would leave unhappy that their season was finished.

After Andy and I signed off on the broadcast, we started to pack our equipment up. I looked out at the bleachers and could see that Bonnie and her mother were still sitting there. I was amazed that such a young girl was able to stay up that late, but it looked like she wasn't going to be able to do so much longer. If I wanted to tell Andy about what I saw at halftime, it was now or never.

"So Andy," I began. "Remember when you asked me what was up at halftime?"

"Yeah."

"Well, right before I came back up here, I saw a little girl drop, believe it or not, a Sheriff Woody doll."

"Nice. What are the odds?"

"That's not all. As I handed it back to her, I saw the name 'ANDY' written on one of its boots."

Andy suddenly seemed taken aback by what I had just told him.

"Did you happen to get the girl's name?"

"Bonnie."

It was at that very moment when I saw Bonnie and her mother walking down from the bleachers and starting to head toward the exit.

"If you want to know for sure, you better catch up to those two who are leaving and fast," I said, knowing I could pack up the rest of the equipment myself.

As soon as I was finished talking, Andy threw on his jacket and ran out of the press box. I saw him catch up to them just away from the bleachers. They all started talking with smiles and I knew these were the people. What got me most was when Bonnie handed Woody over to Andy, who gave a pull to the string in his old toy's back.

Not wanting to interrupt the moment, I summoned someone else in the press box to help me carry down the antenna that came with our equipment. I stopped walking when I caught up with the group and told Andy to take the antenna out to the curb so I could bring my car around to load our equipment in from there. Andy gave Woody back to Bonnie, who was being held in her mother's arms and took the antenna, but Bonnie and her mother kept following us.

"Thank you for saving Woody," said Bonnie as she remembered who I was.

"No problem," I said. "Say, I saw Andy pull the string in his back. What does that do?"

Bonnie pulled the string to demonstrate.

"_There's a snake in my boot!_" said a voice box.

"That's cool," I said. "So what brings you here?"

"This is where I went to high school," said Bonnie's mother. "I don't have much interest in football, but since it's the playoffs, I wanted to give Bonnie a small taste of one of the things she'll probably experience once she's a teenager: the excitement and atmosphere of Friday night lights."

I couldn't argue with that. It is indeed a great thing. It doesn't even matter if you love football or not. Not much else compares to high school football.

When we got to the curb, I told Andy to stay behind and watch the equipment so it wouldn't get stolen. As I left to get my car, I saw Bonnie and her mother still there with him. A few minutes later, I pulled up and Andy helped me load the equipment in. After we got in, Andy rolled down the window to say a final goodbye to Bonnie, her mother and a certain cowboy doll whom Bonnie made talk one final time as she pulled his string.

"_You're my favorite deputy!_"

Bonnie's mother held her up so she could let Andy shake the plastic hand of his one-time toy. We drove off back towards the station and were both kind of moved by what we had just experienced. Andy had been allowed to say goodbye to his childhood one final time and I was happy for him for it.

I now fully realize how hard it was for Andy to give his toys up, especially Woody. He must have been longing for the day he would see him once again. That day had come and now he seemed more ready than ever to keep moving forward on the path of life.


	3. The Reflection

A little less than a week has gone by since Andy said another goodbye to his favorite childhood toy. When we left the high school that night, I thought all this reminiscing was over. As I've just discovered however, not quite.

I mentioned before that Andy joined the school newspaper after I recruited new writers for the sports section. I must say he's done a good job on the articles he's written, but I'm just the co-sports editor. Everyone can have their own opinions on the quality of our staff's work in the paper.

Writers and editors are not required to stay in one particular section all the time, so we can move around whenever we want to. After weeks of sportswriting, Andy decided to change pace for our last issue before we all went home for our holiday break. He offered to write an editorial in the opinion section, but he wasn't sure what to write it on. This took place at our staff meeting a week-and-a-half ago, a few days before we announced the football game together.

Since I had only been concentrating on putting together the sports section, even as I picked up copies of the paper for distribution this morning, I had no idea what Andy had written or even if he had written at all. His reunion with Woody must have given him some inspiration though. When I opened to the opinion section, I saw his article with the headline "**Toys can bring back simpler times**". Intrigued, I proceeded to read what he had put into words:

_"Next time you're at home, go through your room, basement, attic or whatever and take a look at any childhood toys you may have left. You don't necessarily have to play with them; just look at them and hold onto them for a few seconds. See if anything comes back to you._

_Now, this may sound silly preaching it to a bunch of college students and it probably is. After all, isn't college about moving forward and learning what we need to know to make it in the real world? Well yes, but you also have to remember who you once were or your life story isn't complete. I can say this from experience._

_When I was a kid, I had many toys that I treated with a great amount of love. I can still remember the hours of playtime I had coming up with stories and adventures for my toys to partake in. It seemed like these good times would last forever. As we all know however, nothing does._

_Kids love being kids, but they also love to grow up and I was no exception. As you all probably felt, getting older and growing up meant maturing and avoiding childish things. Accordingly, I played with my toys less and less until finally, I stopped playing with them altogether. Any toys I didn't get rid of one way or another stayed in my toy chest waiting for another playtime that would never come._

_Just before I left for college, my mom told me to clean out my room, which meant whatever I wasn't taking with me would either be stored in the attic or thrown away. I initially decided to store my toys in the attic, but long story short, I followed a suggestion at the last minute to donate them to a little girl named Bonnie, who lived nearby instead. This was the day I left and though it was a good idea to give my toys a second chance to make a kid happy, it was hard for me to part with them, especially my cowboy Woody, who was my favorite for as long as I could remember. Just to have some closure, I played with them for one final time with their new owner, but even as I pulled away from the house, I still felt a bit emotional about the whole thing._

_Maybe it was fate, but what happened last weekend helped me cope with this sense of loss a lot more. When I was finished announcing a high school football game for our radio station, my partner told me he had seen Bonnie with Woody and her mother in the stands earlier. I was able to catch up with the group and it was pleasant to see Bonnie and her mother, but having another chance to hold Woody in my hand and make him talk by pulling his string wiped away all doubt of whether I'd see him again. Once more, the memories came flowing back to me._

_There are probably things from our childhoods we want to forget about, but we can't suppress those younger days completely. Remember that there's a little kid inside all of us that we need to unleash at certain times, such as those I just talked about. Whether or not you still have any of your old toys, at least recognize that they are, in some way, part of you still. The old photo I carry around of me with my toys is my reminder of just that."_

I'm not one that cries a whole lot, but when I was finished reading this work of art, I wiped a tear from my eye even though Andy had told me a lot of what he wrote already. I was hoping that I wouldn't be the only one to feel moved by this. Fortunately, I wasn't.

When I see people around campus reading our paper the day we distribute it, I usually only see a few such instances here and there. This week was different though. Word about Andy's piece spread like wildfire and before long, it seemed like only a few people didn't have a copy of this week's paper in their hands, reading it intently. So many copies disappeared from the racks and other distribution places that I received an e-mail from our co-editor-in-chief saying that more of them had to be printed, which was unheard of.

I didn't see Andy all day, but I can see his piece has made him more recognizable on campus. It came across my Facebook wire that he was now friends with **40** new people. I hope they're not the wrong types of people, but if this doesn't erase any doubt that he'll make friends here, nothing will.

I'm glad to know Andy has made his mark here so suddenly and touched so much of the student body just by pouring out his feelings in a student publication. Like I said before, I see great things happening for him. If it takes his old toys to find inspiration for his work, so be it. I'm sure if his old Woody had thoughts of his own, he'd be very proud of his "favorite deputy" for looking to make his life as complete and meaningful as can be.


End file.
